Night Watch Read Online Free Page B

helped with the books. My accountant placed her with me. He knows more about her than I do, for sure.”
    “How long did she work with you?”
    “Five, maybe six months.”
    “And you let her go, why?”
    “Because she liked to help herself to the cash, Jacques. A little too much, a little too often.”
    “
Ah, oui. Les doigts collants.”
The captain saw that I looked puzzled by his words. “Sticky fingers, Alexandra. A common problem in Luc’s business.”
    Tax officials in France sat on restaurant owners like hawks, because so much of the business was in cash transactions. And the ready access to all those euros—and occasional dollars—must have been a temptation to the young woman working alone in an office above the chic dining room.
    “My ex is the one who actually caught Lisette with her hand in the till.”
    Luc had been divorced amicably from Brigitte, his wife of fifteen years, who lived close by with their two kids. He was devoted to the children.
    Jacques’s chair was on casters, and he rolled himself toward the corner, where several dilapidated file cabinets stood. “So we have a record of the theft, you think?”
    “I never reported it.”
    “No?”
    “There was no point. I didn’t think she had stolen that much money in such a short time. No need to jam her up. We just—we just let her go.”
    “No need to have the taxman in your house, finding out you cook your numbers, eh, Luc?” Jacques scooted back in place behind the desk. “I bet they get that pink foam off her face, she was a looker, this Lisette.”
    I studied Luc’s somber face as he answered. “She was a handsome girl.”
    “Handsome enough to tempt you?”
    “No, Jacques, she was—”
    “I realize I’m offending you, Alexandra, but it would be stupid of me not to ask.”
    I nodded at the smirking captain while Luc finished what he wanted to say. “I was at the point in the breakup of my marriage, Jacques, that I wasn’t beyond temptation. No secret there. That wasn’t the issue. Plenty of guys in town were attracted to Lisette, but I wasn’t one of them. There was a profound sadness about this girl—
une tristesse—
not just in her appearance and the way she carried herself, but in her whole spirit.”
    Jacques’s head rolled as he leaned backward with his chair. “Ha! You were looking for something perkier, my friend, like a sex crimes prosecutor? Is that what you’re telling me?”
    There wasn’t much of my usual good-natured humor in reserve since first seeing Lisette’s body on the edge of the pond, and I had no interest in performing for the captain, who seemed to be growing ruder by the minute.
    “Perhaps the next time you’re in New York, you’ll come visit me in the courtroom. I’m long on facts and fairness and the occasional outrage, Captain, but I’ve never been accused of being sad. Buy me some Dewar’s at the end of the day, I might even convince you I’m having a good time,” I said. “Now, Luc planned an absolutely delightful day for me. If you’ve got any more questions, you’ll find us at the restaurant tonight.
Ça va?
”
    Luc fished a business card out of his wallet. “This is my accountant. He knows a lot more about Lisette than I do.”
    Jacques was practically sputtering as he saw me reach for the door handle. “But you can’t go yet.”
    “You can’t possibly be holding him?” I asked, warming up to the incredulity that often preceded my outrage.
    “I’m not holding anyone. I have no idea what happened to this girl. It’s
your
brain I want to pick, Alexandra. I thought you’d help me with this—this situation.”
    “Such a strange way you have of asking for assistance, Jacques. The experts are on their way. What is it you need from me?”
    “So drowning like this. Is that always murder? Must it be a homicide?”
    I didn’t take my hand off the door handle. I saw no reason for Luc and me to involve ourselves in this mystery. “Not necessarily. Most drownings are